


lace and blood

by Asterrious



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice (TV 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: M/M, Reader has a dick, and a blood kink, and a dirt kink, and a lace kink, let beetlejuice be dirty 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asterrious/pseuds/Asterrious
Summary: a ghost wakes you up in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Reader, Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/You
Kudos: 40





	lace and blood

You woke up to sharp teeth sliding down the band of your panties. You’ve taken to sleeping in thin, lacey drippings that are a sight to see snug over your hips and tight against the delicious curve of your cock. You never know when he’ll show up and it’s best to be prepared for hands as cold as death sliding underneath your warm blanket and palming your thighs. Barely awake, you hardly even registered his giggle of delight as he reached the edge of the lace and realized what a treat you have laid out for him beneath your covers. You may be used to him showing up at all hours of the day, but it doesn’t mean you’re as ready for action as he is when you’ve just woken up.

“Aw sugartits, you shouldn’t have. You really shouldn’t have,”

Your comfortable nest was ripped completely away from you so that he could take in the full effect of your panties. There was a matching bra to the set that you used sometimes as a pushup for your pecs, but it wasn’t comfortable enough to sleep in so you hadn’t bothered. Betelgeuse didn’t seem to mind though- he was too busy miming a swooning southern lady, hand to his moss-covered forehead and other palm resting flat over his unbeating heart. 

“Such a sweet sight- sweeter than my grand pappy’s tea on a Sunday afternoon,” He enthused, raising the glass that appeared in his hands to his lips. Still not quite fully awake, you rolled over onto your back, hand seeking the edge of the blanket he’d stolen from you. Your legs fell open, splayed over the sheets, and Betelgeuse choked on his mouthful of sweet tea. You woke up slightly more when the droplets splattered across your body, as icy as frost on a grave. 

“Beej, shut the fuck up,” Your voice was hoarse with sleep, but you could tell the second you spoke that he was imagining other things he could do to turn your throat into a raspy mess. Glancing to the side, you tried to grab a glimpse of your alarm clock to see what time it was, but your view was suddenly blocked by striped arms and a mossy five o’clock shadow. 

“Make me,” He countered and lowered his head to your lips before you could say a single word. 

The ghost tasted like shit but you’d grown used to his particular brand of rancid plant-matter and week-old dumpster bullshit. There was no point in asking him to clean up before he came over, and even if you did ask such a thing of him, you wouldn’t want him to do so anyway. You liked Betelgeuse the way he was, and that included the flecks of bug legs still stuck between his teeth from his midnight snack.

As he kissed you, shoving his tongue as far down your throat as he could get it, you let your hands wander to the edge of his bet against his threadbare shirt. His overcoat was probably somewhere on the bedroom floor, but you had to slip underneath the slime-covered, greasy jacket to reach his shirttails. There were all sorts of strange lumps in the pockets he’d magicked into the inner lining, shapes that were easy to identify and ones that were harder. You couldn’t focus too much on it, trying as hard as you were to get enough air as he enthusiastically swept through your mouth with his tongue. Betelgeuse kissed like a retriever who hadn’t seen its owner in years: all tongue, sloppy, and with an enthusiasm that could have shattered mountains. (Or at least your headboard.) 

A whine of frustration echoed from your throat as you struggled with the edge of his shirt and the jacket, wanting your hands on his skin as soon as possible. His lips had started to finally warm up through contact with your own body heat and you were eager to get the process started on the rest of him. While you knew he couldn’t really help his body temperature, it wasn’t the most pleasant of things to feel like a block of ice was fucking you. BJ finally broke off the kiss to grin smugly down at you, the sound you’d made going straight to his already incredibly overinflated ego. 

With the air of a satisfied cat, he rocked back onto his knees, floating in the air above you to avoid crushing you underneath him just yet. He was still close- with every rise and fall of your chest, your bare skin brushed against his shins. You felt yourself stiffen in the confines of your lacy panties, your cock finally getting the message the rest of your body had gotten ages ago.

Betelgeuse loomed above you like a tombstone towering over a grave and made a show of shucking his jacket. One sleeve slipped down over his shoulder and then the other, and you fought the urge to point out that the stripper effect was lost with the full dress shirt, tie, belt, and slacks he still had on. With a flick of his shoulders- and that did get your attention, how they bulged at the seams of his shirt with the motion, he dropped the jacket behind him. It settled across your legs, a heavier weight than you’d anticipated with everything he had stuffed into the pockets. You shifted, trying to kick it off of you- and then hissed in pain.

BJ’s expression changed slightly, going from cocky to confused, as he glanced behind him. You wiggled your hand down to shove the jacket away from you and a pocket knife clattered out of it and onto the ground, blade popped open and shining with a red, wet edge. A matching line streaked down your thigh, the blood pooling at the cut smeared into the dirty fabric of Betelgeuse’s jacket. You stared at it for a moment and then rolled your eyes- trust him not to remember to put his damn knives away. It wasn’t even worth reprimanding him about; you knew that even if you told him to, he’d never listen.

You looked back at his face, ready to brush it off and pull him down for another kiss, but there was a red glint in his eye that hadn’t been there even a moment before. With fangs poking out from between his lips, BJ took a long, deep inhale. 

The two of you had discussed bloodplay before, but it was never something you’d seriously considered- you were pretty sure that any sort of cuts you got in the course of such a thing were pretty much guaranteed to get infected, given how often the ghost washed his hands. And while the things he promised you were absolutely sexy- “it drives me wild babes, it’ll be so good, I promise you’ll love it”- you’d never been curious enough to try.

It seemed fate had other plans for your night though. 

“Be careful,” You warned him, but he was already moving, rolling over on his side to focus those red eyes on the blood rolling down your thigh. Grubby hands that had already left streaks of dirt over your thighs grabbed at your leg, forcing you to bend your knee enough to raise it towards his face. Once again he took a huge inhale, glowing eyes rolling back into his head a little. You wondered what it smelled like to him- it didn’t take much to get BJ in the mood, but you’d never seen him to… ravenous was the only word you could think to describe it. His tongue, discolored and far too long, slipped over his fangs to lap at the cut.

He was not gentle. It was the rough licking of a cat, insistent sandpaper pressed against your skin. Just the act of having his head so close to the place you really wanted him had you shifting, trying to press your cock closer to the ghost. Before you could really process what was happening, an extra arm had sprouted from Betelgeuse’s shoulder and darted across your hips, pinning you down in place with an iron strength that you couldn’t hope to break.

“This is my show,” He rasped, the words slightly warped in a mouth with too many teeth for them. “You just sit there and look delicious.”

His regular hands pressed themselves to the sides of your cut, forcing more blood to the surface of your thigh. You hissed in pain and those eyes flicked to your face, waiting for you to give the word for him to stop. 

You didn’t.

Purring in satisfaction, he returned his head to your thigh, hair tickling against your skin as he bent down and resumed licking once again. The grip across your hips was resolute but you found that if you wiggled enough, you could brush your lace-covered cock against his shoulder. Betelgeuse was still disappointingly overdressed, but for once that was working in your favor- the friction of his dress shirt against the lace was searing hot. You were straining at the elastic of the panties and went to slide them down your hips, but with a flick of his fingers, you found yourself frozen in place. No more rutting against him, no more twitching your thigh underneath his rough ministrations, and certainly no shedding the panties that were keeping your poor cock bound.

The noise of frustration that ripped its way up your throat was positively feral and you felt him grin against your skin, the smugness returning in full force. 

“Betelgeuse,” You whined aloud, deliberately using his full name to grab his attention. When his head snapped up at the syllables, there was a little trickle of your blood running from the corner of his mouth. 

“I can taste how bad you want it,” He teased, tongue flicking out to smear the bloody mess even further across his cheek. You bucked helplessly in your psychic restraints, turned on beyond what you’d ever thought was possible at the sight of him enjoying you so thoroughly. His own arousal tented his pants; a wet stain grew at the tip of it, adding to the list of other stains already dotting the fabric. 

Without warning, his mouth swooped down to close around your lace-covered cock. You yelped in surprise, the chill of the ghost’s tongue pressing against your white-hot skin a contrast you didn’t think you’d ever get used to. Betelgeuse tongued his way up your length, stopping where the head was trapped against your hip by the elastic of the panties. With a just a toss of his head, the side of one of his fangs dipped below the waistband and snapped it. You should have felt terror at those teeth so sharp around your most sensitive areas, but all you felt was an undeniable surge of arousal.

Your cock sprang free of its cage, pre already beading at the tip, and you couldn’t even find it in you to be mad at the ruined pair of underwear. You’d bought several more you couldn’t wait to show him another night.

BJ looked at the sight in front of him and chuckled, long and low, deep in his throat. That was the sound he made when he was planning something, a sound that meant nothing good for those around him. A sound that promised you a night you’d never forget.

Those frozen lips closed around the head of your cock, lapping up your precum just as he’d savored your blood, and you screamed for him.

**Author's Note:**

> the secret surprise ending of this is that reader gets gangrene from his nasty mouth and loses their leg.
> 
> i'm at bigbogbetelgeuse on tumblr if you wanna come say hi or request a prompt.


End file.
